By Lesley McLaren
They're back! Last week, after Robin tipped me off that the Great Spotted Cuckoos were once again at St. Nazaire, around the hillock overlooking Canet lagoon, I hurried over there, hoping to capture some better memories than the last time I saw and blogged about these splendid birds (May 2015).
I expected to see one pair at best. What a surprise, therefore, to discover possibly two pairs, noisily chasing one another back and forth. Whenever I had one couple in the binoculars in front, it seemed I could always hear at least one more bird making a racket* somewhere behind. I certainly spotted three in the same tree at one point.
I expected to see one pair at best. What a surprise, therefore, to discover possibly two pairs, noisily chasing one another back and forth. Whenever I had one couple in the binoculars in front, it seemed I could always hear at least one more bird making a racket* somewhere behind. I certainly spotted three in the same tree at one point.
Beyond, marsh harriers quartered the reeds. Other raptors flew overhead from time to time; too high to identify, doubtless on migration still. At my level, in addition to the cuckoos, the grassy expanse between the hillock top and reeds was also surround-sound small birds, including stonechat, fan-tailed warblers, nightingales, corn buntings and goldfinches.
All these were safe from the cuckoos. Several magpies, on the other hand, were on high alert, and rightly so. As I understand it they are the favourite adoptive parents for this species of cuckoo chick.
For the hour-and-a-half I was there, the cuckoos put on a fine display. Capturing them on film was of course far more challenging than watching through binoculars or with the naked eye. Even though I sat still in one spot for some time, they refused to oblige and come close - preferring to perch and do fly pasts "over there", usually against the light.
To me, they look comical at times, puffed out and rather smug. Their cream, grey, black and white markings make for perfect camouflage. It's easy to scan dead trees and suddenly find you've been staring right at one without seeing it.
For the hour-and-a-half I was there, the cuckoos put on a fine display. Capturing them on film was of course far more challenging than watching through binoculars or with the naked eye. Even though I sat still in one spot for some time, they refused to oblige and come close - preferring to perch and do fly pasts "over there", usually against the light.
To me, they look comical at times, puffed out and rather smug. Their cream, grey, black and white markings make for perfect camouflage. It's easy to scan dead trees and suddenly find you've been staring right at one without seeing it.
In flight they are swift and sleek; impossible to misidentify, not least because of that super long tail.
In the video below one flies off to join his or her mate in another tree.
Ironically, as is often the case when nature watching, I had blown my cover, replaced lens cap on the camera and was walking right in the open, back up to the car, when I got my closest view of one pair that sat and coolly observed me observing them as I slowly approached and passed by. C'est la vie et tant pis! I'm so glad I made the effort to go over there. Thanks, Robin.
* Their "racket" can be heard in another short video on our birdsong page
